


First of Her Name

by Basileus



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Female Jon Snow, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-03
Updated: 2014-06-19
Packaged: 2018-01-14 10:17:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1262587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Basileus/pseuds/Basileus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Or a world where Rhaegar Targaryen was right about one thing he was wrong in canon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The First of Her Name

**Author's Note:**

  * For [salazarastark](https://archiveofourown.org/users/salazarastark/gifts).



> Disclaimer: I own nothing  
> Comments with thoughts/criticism greatly appreciated.  
> ‘When Westrosi think of historical women in the first three hundred years past Aegon’s Landing, that are universally respected and feared till this day, three names come at the top: Queens Visenya and Alyssanne and The Queen that Never Was-Rhaenys. Yet none of the trio truly changed the lot of women in Westros, and the last of them fell trying to defend the right of women to the Iron Throne. It took nearly another two hundred years before another rose to bring substantial change. Though neutral records from that era are rare, a recently discovered dossier from the library of Winterfell reveals a truly fascinating account of the first female monarch of Westros. Written in third person by a Maester from the ramblings of a dying Lord Paramount, it is still one of the most important accounts from that era.’
> 
> Slightly inspired by my own fic: The Weirwood on the Volcano  
> ‘Had I been born a girl, as my father had envisioned, I would have avenged my siblings a long time ago.'

_294AL, Winterfell._

Robb Stark knew that his mother was not fond of his sister, but it still came as a shock for him to see Joanna be harshly censured for practicing swords with him. She had been sent to bed with just bread and water, and Robb wasn’t even allowed to see her and apologize for asking her to practice swordplay with him. _No, she had been the one made to apologize, for wasting the time of the future lord of Winterfell,_ he though clenching his fists.

 _It wasn’t like this when it was just the two of us. Mother never treated her this way then, and I almost thought she was glad to have a girl to dress up._ But Joanna preferred swords to needles and horses to clothes; and Lady Catelyn soon had her trueborn daughter, Sansa. After Arya was born, she turned very cold towards Joanna. _I don’t know what is her problem, she might be a bastard but she is a girl, she doesn’t get to inherit with me and Bran around, to say nothing of the girls._

 _It might just be that she is so good with swords._ Though he and Theon were stronger, they found it extremely hard to keep up with Joanna, whose speed made her a truly formidable adversary. _Though neither I or Theon will admit it, she could probably beat us with a little more training._ They had begun training together, when they were three. _Father encouraged it, saying about how aunt Lyanna and uncle Benjen sparred together, though he did look a bit sad. But that was then and this is now._

 _Mother is probably just worrying about her. All that talk about her needing to behave like a proper lady to find a ‘suitable’ husband, as she is about to become a woman. And not being a bad influence on Arya._ The thought was laughable; Joanna was too demure despite her formidable skills with a blade, whereas Arya was the real firebrand.

_She is probably just worrying about the King coming._

* * *

_294AL, Winterfell._

Robb finally got an idea why Mother was angry with Joanna so recently. _It’s her semblance to Aunt Lyanna, she and Arya are the only ones to take after the North, though she has her mother’s eyes._ _Those violet orbs could not have come from elsewhere._

Sansa had been betrothed to Prince Joffrey, and this was why Mother was so flustered recently. _Mother feared that the King would want Joanna who looked like his lost love. The face, as the singers say, that could have sailed a thousand ships, and bring a kingdom down._ The King however had chosen the true-born girl for his son. _Though that has not stopped him from his liberties with Joanna._ He was shocked to see the way the King behaved with her. He had tried to speak, but Father had silenced him. _He is our King and we must obey. Even the Queen remains silent,_ thought Robb.

_Mother is unhappy too, and she has been yelling at Jo for her ‘inappropriate behavior’. Poor Joanna has been hiding in her room, pretending to be sick, though that hasn’t stopped the King from asking for her._

He was on his way to meet her, after the ride outside the Castle, _Joffrey wanted to race, that little shit,_ when he noticed the disturbance. Jo was running towards them, being followed by the King. Robb’s blood boiled and he dismounted to run towards Joanna. Yet he was too slow, the King had reached forward to grab her hand as just as he got off the horse. What happened next was a sight he would never forget, for Jo turned around and slashed at King with the short-sword Father gave on her last name day. It was simply a flesh wound, a long slash, but the sight of the King bleeding from a sudden attack from an eleven year old girl left everyone stupefied. The King yelled and tried to staunch the wound, and even the Kingsguard were too slow to stop Joanna from tearing the reins from his hands, and ride Robb’s horse out of Winterfell. _It was indeed fortunate that none of the Southron Archers were around._ Everyone was standing there, shocked into silence, before his father rushed to the King and yelled for a maester. The Kingsguard took off after the girl, and he had almost followed them, when Jory stopped him. One look at Jory’s face was enough for him to realize that Joanna was better off not being found.

As he looked away, and started walking towards the castle, he could almost convince himself that he was mistaken in thinking that the look on Queen Cersei’s face was one of admiration.

* * *

Ser Jaime had found the horse, riderless, close to the White Knife. There was simply no hope for a eleven year old, nobly raised girl to survive in the wild alone, and so Robb could only watch as his father burned her old clothes, and spread the ashes in the crypts, close to Aunt Lyanna’s grave.

 _Kings get whatever they want,_ he thought, clenching his fists. King Robert had recovered speedily enough, with enough wine, and was too busy chastening Ser Jaime for not getting ‘his wild wolf’ back to him. _How can father stand this man?_ He and his father had a shouting match in the crypts the night before, and his father had finally silenced him by reminding what happened to House Stark the last time they had defied a King. _I don’t want to lose any more of you,_ he had said before breaking down. And Robb could understand what his father was trying to say, though he disagreed. _If you were here and The King wanted to drag you South, I would have slit his throat, Kingsguard or not. But you are not here Jo, and I cannot cause trouble for my family._

_May you rest in Peace._

* * *

 

_301 AL, King’s Landing._

Robb was surprised to see his father at the harbor, and even more surprised when the man ran forward to embrace him. This was highly atypical , and he wondered how much these three years as Hand had changed his father.

‘I am glad to see you too, but what is wrong?’

‘I wasn’t even sure if your ship had made it past the blockade, these are dangerous times.’

‘What happened?’

‘Targaryen.’

He had heard the rumors too, fomenting in the East. _Dragons and someone creating trouble in the Free Cities, a Silver haired man. Apparently the old Ghiscari Cities of Slaver’s Bay had fallen and a new dragon is preparing his armies there._

‘Wasn’t Volantis supposed to fight ?’

‘Volantis lost, and their fleet was captured. The Targaryen forces have captured Dragonstone. Velaryon has sealed off Blackwater, your ship was probably one of the last that made it in.’

‘Dragonstone fell?!’

‘Lord Stannis and his family has been put to the sword. _Three for three,_ said the letter they sent to tell us to run to the Night’s Watch when we can.’

_The Queen, Prince Viserys and the newborn Princess, all of whom had died in the last battle for Dragonstone. They were supposed to be the last Targaryens, but if so who is this?_

‘Is this a Blackfyre?’

‘Possible, the Golden Company marches with them. But we are not sure. The Eyrie and Highgarden have fallen silent. ’

 _The Tyrells had fought for the Mad King, but surely Aunt Lysa wont abandon us?_ Aloud he wondered, ‘What about Dorne?’

‘Their letter came within moments of the Targaryen threat. _Fire and Blood_ was the only thing on it. Lord Renly has left for Storm’s End to get men, and Lord Tywin has been written to. He and your Grandfather are massing troops, but there are loyalists like Darry in the Riverlands . Their path will not be smooth. I have written to Lord Umber to help Bran call the banners, but it will be too late by then.’

‘Why are we still in King’s Landing and not off to Storm’s End?’

‘We are unsure how many of the Lords of the Crownlands are still with us, and the war will be lost should we leave Aegon’s Throne behind. Besides, Robert will not run.’

 _Of course._ ‘So we stay and fight?’

‘King’s Landing won’t fall as easily as Dragonstone, not unless those rumors about dragons are true. If they are, there is nowhere to run.’

 _The Field of Fire. Harren the Black and Harrenhall._ ‘So we hole ourselves up in the Red Keep?’

‘And hope Lord Renly and Lord Tywin get here in time.’

* * *

The attacks came on the third day. The defense of the City lasted bare moments after the very much real dragons tore a section of the walls down, as the eunuch soldiers attacked the City. _We might as well have followed the Imp’s advice and used Wildfire, but Father and the King were against it. Besides, the dragons could have used that to burn the whole City down._ They were all holed up in the Red Keep, in Maegor’s Holdfast, waiting for the inevitable. The gold cloaks had yielded a long time ago, and their only hope was that the Targaryen leader would be reluctant to turn his family’s legacy into another Harrenhall. To make matters worse, Lord Varys, who knew all the passages out of the Keep, had disappeared.

They were all standing the Throne room, the Kingsguard forming a circle in front of the Iron Throne. The Northmen huddled to a corner in the left. _Your orders are to protect your Mother and sisters, and no one else, not even me_ , Father had said, _same goes for all Northmen here._ Ser Jaime stood next to the Queen and her children, with more Lannister men. The other men from the Westerlands formed two protective lines in front of the room, along with the last Baratheon men. No Lord of the Crownlands had sent aid, and they all awaited the inevitable. _If we can take their leader down._

Nonetheless, no one had anticipated that they would use wildfire to bring the door down. The explosion and the instantaneous crossbow fire in the momentary confusion had finished the last of the defenders. Only the Kingsguard, and the men guarding the women and children remained.

In walked the leaders of the assault, the four warriors who promised Doom. The Dornish Prince would have been easy to recognize from the armor bearing the Sun and Spear of House Martell, even without his father whispering _The Viper._ There was a red headed man, with a Griffin on his armor, gripping a sword as his eyes darted over the room. The silver haired man however bore the Star of House Dayne, and not the Targaryen dragon, as he gripped his greatsword tightly.

No, it was the dark-haired woman, clad completely in black armor, who bore the Targaryen insignia. On her headed rested a circlet of Valyrian Steel, adorned with many rubies. _The Conqueror’s crown, that the Dornish took from the corpse of the Young Dragon. Seems like they have returned it._

She glanced once over the room, and raised her bastard sword before yelling ‘Charge!’. The Kingsguard, with the exceptions of Ser Jaime and Ser Barristan rushed to meet the challenge. Yet, it proved to be a near one sided slaughter as all the four proved to be formidable foes. Meryn Trant fell to the woman in less than six strokes, and his brethren did not fare much better. Arys Oakheart lasted the longest, but the red headed man put him out of his misery soon enough. The Dayne had taken down two of Knights alone.

‘Are these all your recruits, Usurper?’ taunted the Targaryen woman.

Ser Barristan and Ser Jaime stepped forward now. The Dayne moved on to attack Ser Barristan, while Prince Oberyn took on Ser Jaime. His Father had moved away now, and stepped in front of the Throne. He was about to join him, and so was Jory, when his father waved them back.

The other two however seemed content to wait and watch the outcome of those two duels. Ser Barristan and the Dayne were near evenly matched, but Ser Barristan’s age made him slower, giving Dayne the upper hand. Oberyn on the other hand was playing with Ser Jaime, using his spear, to keep Ser Jaime off a significant distance while trying to deliver shallow cuts. _Coated with venom._

It did not last too long either. Dawn slipped through a crack in the armor and Ser Barristan Selmy fell into the ground. At about the same time Prince Oberyn succeeded in impaling Ser Jaime. The Queen’s scream filled the whole room, and yet Robb only had eyes on the woman who now stepped forward, as Lord Stark raised Ice. Close up, Robb could see her violet eyes narrow with contempt.

‘Daeron’, she commanded, and the silver haired man approached his father.

‘I warn you, Lord Stark, step aside now. Howland Reed is not here to save you this time.’

Robb froze as he saw the Dayne’s eyes. _Grey, like Arya’s eyes._ But he did not have time to wonder as Dawn and Ice met once more in battle. Yet the outcome again was clear. Daeron Dayne was clearly much more skilled and had the advangtage of youth. An armored hand crashed into his father’s helmless face, and Lord Stark fell on the ground, the Dayne placing his foot atop him. He was still alive however, and Dayne made no attempt to dispatch him off, the only thing that stopped Robb from going to his help. _That and mother, Sansa and Arya will be defenseless._

The woman now approached the Iron Throne. Robb half expected King Robert, the demon of the Trident to rise up and attack with his war-hammer. But the fat man gripped the throne harder, and yelled ‘No Dragonspawn will take this from me!’

‘Or what?,’ the woman replied lazily ‘Even an eleven year old girl can cut you with ease and you expect me to take your threat seriously? In case you did not notice, Im not half as honorable as my father-Victory is Victory, however it comes.’

‘Nonetheless, I had wanted to do this for six years now, to finish a job I should have completed on that day in Winterfell,’ continued the woman.

_No, it cannot be. But how?_

‘Lya?’ whispered Robert Baratheon.

‘Visenya’ spoke the new Queen as Blackfyre swang down, and the second royal corpse graced the Iron throne, after Maegor the Cruel.

Visenya Targaryen kicked the corpse down, as she sat on the throne, and leaned back, further than what any man would consider safe. And, unlike Rhaenyra Targaryen, she rose uncut.

‘Lord Connington, as Lord Hand I leave the task of securing the City to you, more urgent tasks—‘

‘You think you will get away with this, my father—‘ yelled Queen Cersei.

‘I am not a four year old and my Balerion is not a cat. And for your information, it is a long overdue meeting with Lord Tywin that beckons me away from King’s Landing.’

‘Lord Varys,’ she spoke to the fat man who had just stepped into the room. ‘To the black cells with this woman and her bastards. Lock the Starks in the Tower of the Hand till I get back. ’

‘Long live Her Grace’ yelled the red headed man and the others who had begun flooding in followed in chorus. But the Queen walked out, followed by the silver haired Dayne-Stark-he did not know.

* * *

He had yielded than risk resisting and being killed. The red headed Lord Connington had them locked up in the Tower of the Hand. His father’s injuries were not serious, but a maester had been sent to have look.

It was the next visitor though who provided the highlight of their stay. A dark haired woman, older than the Queen, but with violet eyes and clad all in black came to pay a visit.

‘Hello Ned,’ spoke Ashara Dayne.

‘Ashara,’ begun his father.

‘Checkmate, dear Ned. I lost the battle but won the war.’

‘You were behind all this?’

‘Visenya was, I have to give her credit-she does justice to both her parents.’

‘I can expl—‘

‘I have absolutely no interest in hearing your drivel. I had heard enough from her when I found her starving in the streets of Braavos. Daeron found her on the verge of selling herself to a sailor, and brought her to me. One look at those eyes, and I recognized my folly in not insisting that I take both babes with me to Essos.’

‘She was my family—‘

‘And if this is how Northmen treat family, I am really glad that I escaped that. Exile might have been a bitter pill, but it is better than being a female bastard in Westros.’

‘You know, what is funny Ned? If you had let me take her, I would have never told her she was a dragon. She would have been my daughter, and not the heir to the Iron Throne, as I had promised to you then. But you failed in your part of the bargain, and I saw no need to uphold my end,’ finished Ashara Dayne.

‘You were plotting all along?’

‘I wasn’t. Even Jon gave up hope. There were no more dragons left, and I never even told him. Kept him focused with the Golden Company, he is commander now, did you know? I only told him after ‘Senya came to me. Since then we have been using all our options. Blackfyre’s were very willing to ignore the color of the dragon once they were sure it was a dragon, since they had none left. And after the egg’s hatched, the rest was history. It was her idea to use the slave Cities as well, good standing with the Faith as a side benefit and all.’

‘What will happen to us,’ whispered Lady Catelyn.

‘Ah, that I can answer. House Lannister and Baratheon have death warrants against them. Anyone bearing the name, or anyone with the blood within three generations, be it true-born or bastard has three weeks to take the Black or join the Silent Sisters. After that, it will be Fire and Blood. Lord Tywin can’t escape that way though, the Queen wants his head rather too badly. House Tully- your father sold his daughters for his own gain. He chose to play the game, and now must pay the price. Every man has to take the Black, or face the same fate as Lannisters. Your sister also has to join the Silent Sisters, she did poison her husband after all. A proper regent has to be found for the Vale in any case. You’ll be spared though, since you are technically ‘family’. In fact, any Stark who bends the knee can run back up North.’

‘Why?’ whispered Ned Stark.

‘Arryn getting poisoned? I don’t know, maybe her lover Baelish convinced her? And if you are wondering why this sudden mercy for House Stark, I can assure you I have nothing to do with it.  Jon, Daeron and I proposed taking an extreme hard line, but the Queen was merciful.’

‘Anyways, I have to go now, I have a Castle to run while Jon runs the City, ’ finished Ashara Dayne.

‘Ashara, before you go, is Daeron—‘

‘Blood does not matter Ned. For the world he is Ser Daeron Connington of Storm’s End, legitimized by the Queen herself. What the smallfolk think is their affair, but I can very much assure you that Daeron does not consider you to be his father, in any sense of that word.’

‘We Dornish use the name Daeron for two reasons. One for all the children resulting from the Young Dragon’s invasion’

His father stepped back as if he had been slapped.

‘or after our goodbrother, King Daeron II the good. Think what you will Ned, but you have lost and I , Ashara Dayne have won. I have seen Rhaegar’s daughter to the Throne, while your friend rots in a ditch. Learn the difference between the dolls of a Septa and real women in future.’

And with that, Ashara Dayne left.

* * *

_305 AL, Winterfell._

Robb Stark looked at the latest missive from King’s Landing. It was the customary invitation to the forthcoming wedding of the Queen to Ser Daeron Connington. The Realm had healed fairly easily, after Reach and the Vale had bent the knee, and Lord Tywin perished in a second Field of Fire, close to Harrenhall. The Westerlands and Stormlands had fallen to order, after Lord Renly burned in Storm’s End. It had taken the greater part of a year, and only then were the Starks allowed to leave King’s Landing. A few thousand men got sent to the Watch by the end of it, including Uncle Edmure and great-Uncle Brynden. He was glad that his grandfather had died before the order had reached Riverrun. The Darry’s got the Castle, along with Paramountcy in the Riverlands, for the exceptional service rendered to House Targaryen. _A dead lord and four sons._

Robb still did not know what to think of the Queen. He had pleaded for a private audience, and was surprised to be granted one. It was awkward as he tried to speak, while she sat silently. Her only words were ‘the realm is more important than any family’.

He could acknowledge that the Queen was a success. She had put the Crown’s finances in order, conscripted the gold mines in the Westerlands, and placed the Westerlands under a Governor appointed by the Crown. The smallfolk loved their Warrior Queen, and the High Septon preached that she was the mortal incarnation of the Warrior, though he suspected the Septon’s preference to be alive had been an important factor behind that. But the realm finally had peace, and the end of Lord Tywin had been a thing most people had considered favorable.

_Except the three thousand that were sent to the watch, the bastards that were chopped down for simply existing. Even the Conqueror had showed more mercy._

_History may remember their First Queen favorably, but those of us who witnessed it firsthand will only have bittersweet feelings._ Visenya Targaryen had crushed a wilding invasion, and been extremely successful in managing resources for winter, making her popular in the North. _Our Queen, the smallfolk say. No doubt they are celebrating the wedding, hoping more heirs, more dragons to perpetuate House Targaryen, though they will have more Stark blood than not. She will not be calling herself Connington in any case._

He had tried to speak with his brother, but had been coldly rebuffed. Ser Daeron was happy to ignore his Stark ancestry, and most people felt it was for the best. That was a veritable can of worms best left unopened. His mother had been struck by the whole thing, and she barely spoke with anyone now. _Especially after what the Queen did to her family. Sometimes I wonder if she was spared only that she could suffer._ The Queen had made a not so veiled threat against them getting comfortable in the North. _I have a Stark to place in Winterfell if it needs be._ His father and he had taken the warning seriously enough.

They would be unable to attend the Wedding , though his father would probably want to go. He had tried to seek Daeron out too, but had no better luck.

He closed his eyes and tried to remember the little girl he used to play swords with, but he could not reconcile her with the Queen. And it was only then, did Robb Stark acknowledge something.

_I hate you, brother for not having anything at start and still winning this game. You get to have her while I squandered my chance long ago._

* * *

_355 AL, Winterfell_

Lord Robb Stark read the letter thrice, just to be sure that he read King Aemon’s message correctly. Visenya Targaryen, the former Queen was dead at the age of seventy two. She had abdicated seven years ago in favour of her son, who now ruled from the Iron Throne, and retired to Dragonstone.

_Lord Connington had gone up to the Dragonmount when it erupted. The Queen attempted to ride Melys to the summit but had failed. A charred form was recovered later, that was identified by the presence of her ring._

_She had requested her ashes be spread half in the Trident and half here in Winterfell. The King requests me to grant this._

_I cannot refuse, and nor shall I. The greatest member of our House has finally come to rest, the same way she had lived her life-in fire and blood. Winterfell will be well honored to house some relic of the First Queen._

He closed her eyes and thought about the days past. Violet eyes flashed across his memories, as he wondered when the Gods will take him too.

* * *

 

 


	2. The Old Wolf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Visenya Targaryen and the realm, through the eyes of Lord Eddard Stark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing.
> 
> To my favorite Rurouni and L_Cloudy
> 
> This was originally supposed to be a one-shot, but Himura wanted a Ned POV for this. It got horrifyingly detailed, and there is probably a bit too much supernatural in here but oh well!
> 
> Also: Those who have read my other fic, 'The Weirwood on the Volcano', Jaehaerys and Visenya are not the same. Jaehaerys is a politician and lacks a conscience, while Visenya is a warrior who still has traces of humanity left. A lot of the storyline is different too, for story reasons.
> 
> Also: Ashara was the fav character to write about :)

_Starfall, 283AL_

‘So you want me to pretend to be her mother?’

Eddard nodded, barely daring to glance up at Ashara to see her expression. ‘I don’t have any other choice.’ _Not with those violet eyes, no matter how much she looks like Lya otherwise._

‘I can certainly dispute that, plenty of Lyseni whores around. Although, I suppose it will be easier to go with me, after all the story of my _dishonor_ is already sung across the Seven Kingdoms.’

‘Ashara—‘

‘I made my bed Ned, and it’s my time to sleep on it. We were not betrothed, and I had the choice to take Moon tea.’

‘If Brandon hadn’t –‘ choked Ned.

‘But he did, and you chose honor. I cannot blame you for that, Arthur was much the same.’

Thoughts of Ser Arthur Dayne were most unwelcome at the moment, but he forced himself to look at the man’s sister at the face. ‘Will you do it?’

‘I owe the dead as much. But you are not getting Daeron, he stays with me.’

‘But Winterfe—‘

‘Is not his home. Your wife had a son by the way, congratulations. We all know the story of Daemon Blackfyre, and the Redgrass field. That is not a fate I shall permit for my son and that’s why we must leave.’

‘Leave?’

‘To Essos. If we stay, there will always be people who will want to use Daeron against your son. Besides, there will be too many rumors about why you took only one bastard back, as I presume you are not leaving me with her here.’

He nodded; he was not going to leave Visen-no- _Joanna_ here in Dorne. That would not be what Lyanna wanted,

‘Smart move, I’m not sure how long we could keep the story up under intense interrogation. Besides, we don’t want to give Doran a new Queen, do we?’

He looked at her in surprise, he was more afraid of what Elia’s brothers would do with Lyanna’s daughter.

Ashara laughed, and laughed hard, though there was a manic edge to it. ‘You didn’t know, did you?’

‘Know what?’

‘Elia and Oberyn had a bit more in common than you would think.’

‘What has that got to do with anything?’

‘Are you aware of, _ah, Oberyn’s preferences?’_

All the rumors he had heard about the Viper over the years, flooded to his mind. ‘Are you suggesting—‘

‘Elia was as involved in this as Rhaegar. She even got Oberyn to take Lyanna’s maiden-cloak off, seeing that there were no Starks available.’

‘She was just fifteen!!’ he yelled.

‘And was about to be married off in a few months!!’ screamed Ashara. ‘The hypocrisy of you Northerners shocks me to the core. You could expect her to get married and have babies at that age, but not make decisions about her life?’

He had to fall silent, because the barb hit close home, if only because of the consequences of Lyanna running off.

‘We Dornish do not act this way, our women have choice,’ spoke Ashara Dayne. ‘Elia quite liked Lyanna in Harrenhall, and prevailed over Rhaegar.’

‘Lyanna would not—‘

‘Says the man who spent half her life away in the Vale. Although I am not sure it made a difference anyways, seeing the understanding exhibited by Brandon and Lord Rickard.’

His temper flared up as he jumped up, ‘Do not dare speak that way about my family!’

‘I will speak however I choose to!! Do not forget you now stand in Dorne and I have enough men to reunite you and Reed with your sister!’

He collapsed back, knowing the truth in her words. _Dorne can secede if it wanted to, and we can do nothing. The threat of Robert will not stop the Daynes from killing me should they desire. Prince Doran has a boy he can marry a Targaryen Princess to, and it will all end._

‘Aerys—‘he tried.

‘Was mad, we don’t dispute that. Which was why this union was necessary. He was getting suspicious of Rhaegar, and Elia could not have more children. If anything happened to Aegon, we would have ended up with Viserys on the throne.’

‘You did end up with Viserys,’ he noted, with savage pleasure.

‘I wish we had, we wound up with Robert instead. Lyanna had told Elia all about him you see, and I was around. Another reason I must leave, for I cannot bear to remain in a Westros where Robert Baratheon sits on Rhaegar’s throne, stained with the blood of Aegon, Rhaenys and Elia.’

‘The Targaryens were mad to begin with, it’s no great loss.’

‘We will see who was right, two decades down the road. You look at Aegon the Unworthy, ignoring the fact that you gifted the throne to someone worse. The Targaryens built the Seven Kingdoms and it will be unmade soon enough without them. There is no Jaehaerys I, no Daeron II, nothing of worth that can come out of that line of savages that cannot read and the realm shall bleed again. But I don’t care, we Dornish will be free by then, and the rest of the realm can go to hell for all I care.’

‘So you want to crown Viserys?’

‘I want to crown no one; my allegiance was to Rhaegar and Elia, not to the realm. Now that they are dead, I simply wish to move on, after I am sure _Visenya_ is safe. Under normal circumstances, I would want her to rule, but these are hardly normal times and safety comes first.’

‘You should give her to me, you know. She would be safest in Essos, where those eyes are not rare. It is not easy being a bastard is Westros, not even in Dorne. Your wife would be happier too,’ finished Ashara Dayne.

‘And let you unite with loyalists and wage war?’

‘I certainly understand why you distrust me so, very well, have it your way.’

‘People will talk about you vanishing. ‘

‘They will find my dress in the sea, and no body. They will think it was from grief over Arthur’s death, and you ripping my babe from me. Suits me well enough. Goodbye Ned, I hope we do not meet again.’

* * *

 

_294AL, Winterfell._

Ned heard the argument coming from Joanna’s room, long before he got there. Or rather, he heard Catelyn yelling and silence from the other side. _Lyanna would have not been silent; she would have raised hell by now._ Strangely, he almost wished that Joanna would speak back, despite the resulting lack of domestic peace. _She would be less like her father then, too little fire to too much ice in her._ Catelyn’s punishment could not get any worse even if Joanna spoke back, for Ned had drawn the line about corporal punishment a long time ago.

He wanted to interfere, to go stop Catelyn, but it had been an unwritten rule that she was in charge over the girls, even though Joanna spent most of her time with Robb, riding, playing swords and acting like a boy. He had hesitated about leaving Catelyn in charge of Joanna, but to his surprise she had not objected at first. _She was so young then, and just wanted to mother the little girl. Judging from how glad she was to have Sansa, she probably just wanted a daughter._ Joanna also posed no threat to Robb inheriting, which probably had a lot to do with why Lord Hoster had not raised too many objections, especially considering the circumstances behind the ‘death’ of Ashara Dayne. _But now things are different. Too many people compare Joanna to Lyanna for her to be happy about it._ He loved Sansa and did not mind her looking like a miniature version of his wife, but Catelyn had despaired over failing to give him a son with the look of the North. Arya was the only one of their brood who was of the North, and Catelyn resented that the five year old was not as beautiful as her half-sister had been at the same age. When people spoke of Lyanna, the comparison was always to Joanna and not Arya, even though Ned knew that Arya resembled Lyanna much more. _We went to war for her, and so her beauty increased a thousand fold in the eyes of men, so much so that only the blood of Old Valyria could fit their imaginations._ Perhaps it was just him, but he could see all the Targaryen features men missed on account of her dark hair. Her eyes, nose, bone structure all screamed Rhaegar Targaryen, but men were more likely to think of Ashara Dayne, another dead beauty of the Seven Kingdoms. _Catelyn resents that Joanna will grow up to be beautiful, as beautiful as the songs describe the dead to be._

It was petty, but it was not an issue he dared address to his wife, after all the initial kindness she had showed to Joanna. The King’s impending visit had made both of them more agitated. He worried whether he would have to hide Joanna elsewhere, but decided against it as that would make men suspicious. His wife’s worry came from another level, for she had been suggesting betrothing Joanna to someone, as she was about to become a woman. He had objected at first, wanting to wait a few years. _Bastard or not, she will grow up to be one of the greatest beauties of the North, if not the realm. Few would refuse such a bride with the blood of House Stark._ Lord Bolton in fact had expressed interest in arranging something between his son Domeric and Joanna, but Ned had stalled. _She is too young, and I was not sure that Catelyn wanted her engaged before Sansa._ Catelyn had certainly resented the near contemptuous glances Roose had shot at her and Sansa, and that steeled his resolve even more. _Roose may have plans of taking over Winterfell using her, and I have no intention of letting this marriage happen. Perhaps Jon Umber or Eddard Karstark, or Daryn Hornwood or Clay Cerwyn would be better._ All four boys would probably be too happy to get such a beautiful wife, and their fathers would not mind too much on account of her Stark blood. _Though I hear Domeric Bolton plays the harp,_ as memories of Rhaegar Targaryen rose to the surface. While a bastard running off would not cause as much issues like a trueborn daughter, he at least wanted Joanna to have the choice of choosing her husband, if only to prevent another tragedy. However, he suspected that Joanna will just smile demurely and ask him to find her a match.He would find a Northern heir; he would at least let the children of the Last Targaryen be in a position to inherit something, a meager recompense for the Iron Throne.

 _Catelyn is worried about that, she thinks Robert would want Joanna to marry Joffrey instead of Sansa, as she fears that Joanna looks so much like Lyanna that Robert will not care for her bastardry._ That was not a completely unreasonable fear, and it was one he would have shared if the Queen was not a Lannister who would never let her son wed a bastard. Nonetheless, Catelyn had been insulated to reason, and she was acting very harshly with Joanna, strongly taking exception to her practicing swordplay with Robb. _She has heard too many stories about Lya and Ben._ He had tried to speak with her, but her only response was ‘your daughter will be Queen in either case’ and then she began to weep. He tried to convince her that he would try to find a match for Joanna after the Royal visit had passed but she was convinced that Joanna’s behavior made her unmarriageable and she was setting a bad example for Sansa and Arya. _A pity there are no Mormont boys, for I could have betrothed her there, and fostered her off to Bear Island. She would have liked that._ Finally, he had agreed that his wife should try to make Joanna ‘more womanly’, she was eleven and would soon become a woman. _Perhaps Lya would have settled down, had she had a mother._ This was not his expertise, and he had to trust Catelyn in this. He only hoped that Joanna’s demure nature will stop her from doing anything as drastic as running away.

* * *

 

The King had not suggested replacing Sansa with Joanna, for he apparently wanted Joanna for himself. Catelyn had gone near berserk, screaming that her daughters will not share the company of a King’s concubine. She had been screaming at Joanna all the time for being ‘improper’ and the girl was too scared to leave her room now. Ned did not think it was quite fair, but it was perhaps the best solution-he knew Robert was the King and will not change his ways, though he was not aware that his friend’s taste ran to such young girls. _Probably because she looks so much like Lya or maybe it is because of the Lannister woman._ Ashara’s words rang in his head again, for he knew that she would have said something like ‘do not always blame the woman’, but he shook that thought off. _This is not Dorne, things are different here._ For once, he was glad that Catelyn was nothing like Ashara, for Ashara would have thrown Robert out after his behavior with the serving girls, King or not. _Or poisoned him in sleep._ Robb had raisen concerns about the King’s behavior, but he had shushed him down, the boy did not know how to deal with royalty after all.

 _Did Brandon know? Or Father?_ A sly voice spoke in his head, but he had to silence it. Thinking about Targaryens was not something he took pleasure in.

He was out in the courtyard, speaking with Ser Rodrik. Robb and Joffrey were just returning from a ride, and Joffrey looked pretty angry. Truth be told, he was not very happy with his future goodson, but he too would be King someday.

 _Nothing of worth that can come out of that line of savages that cannot read,_ spoke that traitorous voice that sounded awfully like Ashara’s but he quashed that thought.

A commotion made him turn around to see Joanna trying to run away from Robert. He knew he had to move, to just distract Robert and let Joanna hide somewhere, but his body froze as his mind drifted back to a similar scene with her mother in Harrenhall, where Brandon had intervened. Robb has dismounted and was yelling something, and he knew he should stop his son from doing something he would regret.

And yet he never got the chance, for Joanna had slashed wildly with her training sword to shake Robert off and had succeeded in dealing a wound. It was a scene that he had not expected, and apparently no one else had. Therefore, no one stopped Joanna from tearing the reins from Robb and riding off. The Kingsguard too were shocked, but he could have sworn he saw appreciation on Jaime Lannister’s face.

He rushed over to Robert and called for a Maester. The spell was now broken, as people were yelling and some of the Kingsguard were riding out. He briefly considered sending Jory out as well, but reconsidered almost immediately. _I cannot save her from this, it is better if she is not found._

 _Bastard or not, she was raised in a Castle-how long do you think she will last in the wilds,_ spoke the treacherous voice that he ignored, as Maester Luwin ran over, examined the wound and declared that there was no permanent harm.

 _‘Stick them with the pointy end Ben!’_ rang in his mind, a voice from the same place but a different time.

* * *

 

Lannister found her horse by the White Knife, but no rider. Robert was disappointed that he could not get his hands on the girl, and Catelyn made little effort to hide her relief that one problem had faded from her life. He did not want to endure either of their company today, though he knew he would have to forgive them soon enough.

He instead walked over to Joanna’s room and was unsurprised to find Robb there, looking at a book. _The Conquest of Dorne,_ by Daeron I Targaryen, Joanna’s favorite and for a moment a chill rose up his spine. But he steeled himself, and asked Robb if he would join him in the crypts.

They were burning her clothes, around Lyanna’s grave, both watching the flames in silence, neither speaking their thoughts.

_‘Beloved daughter of Lyanna Stark and Prince Rhaegar Targaryen, the Queen Who Never Was lived fearlessly, and died amidst blood, her fiery spirit untamed till the end. She was eleven years old.’_

_‘Thus ends House Targaryen, for Visenya Targaryen was last of her kind. The line of Aegon the Conqueror, Jaehaerys I, Aegon Dragonsbane, Daeron II and Aegon V ultimately comes to an end, an end of the era that defined the Seven Kingdoms.’_

Memories drifted across his mind, faster than he could believe possible:

‘ _Stick them with the pointy end, Ben!’_

_‘Dragonspawn!’_

_’Promise me, Ned!’_

_‘The Prince who was Promised, whose song will be the Song of Ice and Fire’_

_‘The realm shall bleed again!’_

_‘You denied the throne to our niece in favor of the man who was fathering bastards while fighting a rebellion in Lyanna’s name!’_

_‘Family, Duty, Honor.’_

_Ashara was right in the end, I would have to sleep in the bed I have made. Joanna is gone, and Benjen will never forgive me for this. I wish I could have had this knowledge eleven years ago, of Family, Duty and Honor._

_I hope that you will forgive me-Brandon, Father, Lya. I am just as responsible for the destruction of my family as anyone else. Yet there is no way for me to make amends, Benjen and Joanna are lost to me, and I must do the best I can for Catelyn and her children, honor be damned._

Robb had begun to yell at him now, and he understood his rationale. _Father, Brandon, Lya or Benjen would have not stood for this under their watch, they would have gutted the King and his men. But I cannot lose anyone else now._

* * *

 

_301 AL, Kings Landing_

He wandered inside the store room, right at the bottom of the Red Keep for the first time in three years. _Robert had wanted to burn all of it down but Jon Arryn had stood firm to not destroy all the legacy of a united realm._ He still remembered Jon yelling ‘They were your ancestors too!’ and the compromise had been to stow the entire Targaryen legacy away. Robert had forgotten all about it, but Varys hadn’t , this had been one of the first places he had mentioned after he had become Hand, three years ago, wondering if it was time for these to be destroyed. He had said no, but today he wished he had said yes.

There had been stories about a silver haired man in the East, and rumors of dragons for four years now. At first it had been ignored, for the old Valyrian cities in the East often sprouted such stories, but the fall of Slaver’s Bay had changed things. It was a far graver threat than one would think, but Lord Tywin had gotten Volantis to act against them. Tywin had been smug about that, saying that the Volantene Navy could take even the fabled dragons down, from the wisdom of Old Valyria. They had thought it was dealt with, another Blackfyre threat, dead before arrival and were preparing for Sansa’s marriage to Joffrey. Except Volantis had been crushed, and their entire fleet conscripted to the Targaryen cause. The news had reached them from the victors themselves, for the former Volantene navy had crossed the Narrow Sea and seized Dragonstone, putting the entire Castle to the sword.

 _Three for Three,_ Jon Connington had written, as the ‘Hand of the True Imperator’ and not simply as the leader of the Golden Company. _Stannis Baratheon and his family for Queen Rhaella, Prince Viserys and Princess Daenerys, cruelly slaughtered in the sack of Dragonstone._ This was a formidable threat, as Dragonstone had never fallen to Blackfyres before and the army of freed slaves from the East was guaranteed to be threat. To make matters worse, the Braavosi had joined hands with ‘the breaker of chains’ and were blocking any attempt of aid by Manderlys.

 _Thank god Robb had left before all this truly began._ There was a great risk though, that his ship had not gotten past the Velaryon blockade of the Blackwater. Many of the Lords of the Crownslands had shown their true colors at this hour of crisis, and were openly backing the dragons. The safety of Kings Landing itself was at stake. The Lords on the mainland had not marshaled troops to attack yet, but the fall of Kings Landing was a foregone conclusion, with enemies in Dragonstone and Driftmark, and Blackwater sealed. _Unless we can hold the siege long enough for Renly to get here with forces from the Stormlands._ Renly had left the night the letter had arrived, and he was supposed to use Loras Tyrell to get help from the Reach. _That is our only hope, as this Targaryen had an army ten times the size of the Conqueror’s had been for the Field of Fire. The Golden Company, and the freed slaves from the East, coupled to the might of the Crownslands. And Dorne._ The letter from Doran Martell had arrived today, and it was dated before the sack of Dragonstone. The only words on that missive was _Fire and Blood._ The message was clear, and it severely restricted the abilities of either Renly or the Reach to help, for Dorne could lay their South to waste should they move too many men North.

 _The assumption being the Reach will help. Renly may have Loras Tyrell, but Lord Mace will probably write him off if the alternative is the complete end of his line in another Field of Fire, like the Gardeners. There have also been far too many loyalists there, waiting all this time for a dragon to come from the east._ ‘A coat of black, a coat of red/ the fire burns the same,’ muttered Ned. The same Blackfyres that these loyalists had resisted for Daeron II and his line were now going to be welcomed back, to take the Iron Throne away from Aegon V’s great grandson. _If only Robert took Jon’s advice._ Jon Arryn has insisted that disposing of the Targaryen legacy was going to lead to disaster one day. _The dragons united the realm, the stags never did over eight millennia. Your claim comes from your grandmother Rhaelle, be careful how far you can push that, the Valyrian mystique that makes people fear the Throne, long past the death of the dragons._ Robert had resisted and the end result was a strange hodgepodge, with the Capital remaining in King’s Landing, a brother holding Dragonstone, and the Iron Throne remaining where it was, while the cultural shift was clear to any who looked. _Aegon the Unworthy might have been worse, but people knew he had a Daeron the Good to take over from him. And Robert has ruled longer than Aegon IV by now and all are aware that Joffrey is no Daeron II._

He looked at the paintings of the old Kings that were stowed away in this room. _That why I came down, to see what those of the past think of us and to seek forgiveness._ Stories were abound of how sorcery was infused into each of this images, right down to Jaehaerys II, Aerys never having gotten his own. He expected Aegon IV to look happy that his bastard son’s line had come back to rule, and he was, Aegon IV was depicted laughing in a fashion that would have befitted a madman. But the contentment on the face of Daeron the Good surprised him, _he too wants our defeat._ Censure was clear in the eyes of Aegon V, Maekar, Viserys II and Aegon III, _the warrior kings look harshly down upon us._ Aerys I and Jaehaerys II only showed sadness, which did not surprise him, _lovers of peace._ The only ones he had his eyes for though, were Jaehaerys I Targaryen and the Good Queen Alysanne. It was to them he had come, wondering what Jorelle Stark’s children thought of him, with their songs of Ice and Fire. The coldness in their eyes frightened him, _the look father used to have_ and their faces only revealed censure.

 _Kinslayer!_ , a voice rang in his head, _this is the fate that awaits you!_

 _I did not do so willingly! I tried my best,_ but even he knew had their positions been reversed , had he been the girl who ran off with a Prince, Lyanna would have threatened to cut Robert’s throat had he dared act improperly with her niece, and would have actually done it the second time. So would have Brandon, Benjen or Father. _My love for Robert making me blind to the end, I had not learnt my lesson after all._ He had spent three years in south, weaving through Lannister machinations and politics of the Red Keep, not for the realm but for Robert.

 _And now the day of Judgement arrives,_ he thought, looking up to the largest painting, of the Conqueror and his sister-wives. Rhaenys and Aegon were openly smiling, but it was the smirk on Visenya’s face that did him in. _Visenya Targaryen, First of her Name, the woman who helped conquer the realm, secured the Vale alone, ruled the Seven Kingdoms alone after Rhaenys died and chose her nephew over her son._ Visenya’s choice still shocked maesters till this day, for she had been the one to insist on Aenys, the one who led the charges against the Faith from Vhagar, and finally who saw the Old King to the Throne. _This is not the Visenya Targaryen who crowned Jaehaerys I,_ this was not a woman in her sixties, but a proud young warrior, with her lips turned up in a smirk. _Does she know that judgment is coming, for what I did with her namesake?_ He thought of his own Visenya again, and was struck by the semblance, only that Lya’s girl had not been blonde. _She would have been seventeen now, wed and a mother perhaps, had fate been kinder._ The Sorceress Queen’s smirk was somehow more unbearable than all of the others put together and he wanted to leave. But he could not-he had come here to receive their judgment, the giants made unsurpassable by death.

‘My Lord,’ Jory spoke from outside, ‘It seems like a ship from White Harbor has arrived to the harbor, perhaps the last.’

 _Robb may be safe, and I must go to check._ Though it did not really matter, Fire and Blood was coming for all of them pretty soon. There was no scope of abandoning Kings Landing, the Gold Cloaks would do them in the moment such was suggested, and Robert had refused to flee. _I should have sent Catelyn and her children away, but to where? They would not get to Riverunn in time, and the enemy will find it easier to catch up with them._ The only hope was North of the Neck, if those rumors of dragons proved false. _They are not,_ he sensed, _for how else did this Targaryen win his wars and assemble this great host?_ King’s Landing would be their funeral pyre, irrespective of what happened. He had already written to Lord Umber, to take over as regent for Bran, who was both young and a cripple, so that Bolton did not seize the moment. _Bend the knee if there are dragons and secure the safety of my last sons, irrespective of my fate. Else declare the North free._ Manderly, Mormont, Glover, Karstark, Hornwood, Cerwyn had all gotten the same letters, _Robert thought I was calling for aid._ He wasn’t, the forces of the North could not get there in time. If the Reach helped them and there were no Dragons, they could perhaps win this, but in every other circumstance, it was a lost cause. Tywin could not do much, the Westerlands did not have too many men, and all the sellswords he had hired with his gold had perished in Slaver’s bay, Connington’s letter tauntingly said. Still, Lord Lannister and Lord Tully were trying to assemble a host, made difficult by Riverlords like Darry who were still loyal to the dragon. _The son trying to avenge his dead father and four dead brothers._ They would not get here fast enough, and it all came down to Renly and the Reach, the Vale having fallen silent for some time, _Lysa is scared and we cannot send men to make contact._ And if there were truly dragons, it was all over already.

* * *

 

He was glad for Jaime Lannister’s insistence that all the wildfire be thrown into the Blackwater. The Imp had suggested using it, and the Queen was interested at first but the Kingslayer went berserk, yelling about how they were not going to act like Aerys. That had been the final straw for Robert, who had all of it thrown into water. _It was a good thing, else we would all be dead by now. The dragons needed to light just one dump off, and we would all burn._

But their end was already nigh, the very much real dragons had torn down the city walls and the Gold Cloaks had defected. Varys had also vanished, taking with him any hope for a secret escape route. _Treacherous slime_. They were all holed up in Maegor’s ,waiting for the final blow to come, hoping that this Targaryen will not turn the Red Keep into a second Harrenhall.

He had made his peace with his fate for quite some time. Robb and his men were ordered to defend Catelyn and the girls. _I wish I had not asked her to come after Robb turned sixteen._ But he would go down defending Robert. _I made my bed and now I must sleep on it, no escaping my fate now. But I will not see the North go further down on account of my follies._

He watched almost dispassionately as the door was brought low by wildfire, and the majority of defenders slain by crossbow fire. He was unsurprised to see Jon Connington stride in, followed by the Red Viper of Dorne. No, it was the man with Silver hair that shocked him the most. He had feared right from the start that Ashara had been working for the Targaryen across the Narrow Sea, but that could not prepare him for the sight of seeing a replica of Arthur Dayne walk into the room, clad in Dayne insignia and clutching Dawn. Only those grey eyes proved that the dead were not walking again, the only features he had bestowed upon his son.

The greatest shock was the woman who walked in last, clad in black armor bearing the Targaryen insignia. _The red dragon, not black-this is not a Blackfyre invasion, but the prodigal daughter coming home._ Never had he entertained any hope of Visenya being alive, and so he was shocked to see Lyanna’s daughter walk through the door, looking just like the Queen in the painting, brunette not blonde.

 _This is it, the end._ If he could have expected indifference from the Blackfyre conquerors, he now needed to steel himself for annihilation. _The Rains of Castamere._ None of the four were going to show mercy.

His eyes darted to the corner of the room where Tywin Lannister had laid the bodies of Rhaegar’s children. His breath caught as he saw two shadowy figures rise up from there, and stand on either side of Visenya. _No, it cannot be, Rhaegar and Elia are dead._ But on closer look he could see the sharp bones in the Dornish woman’s face and the thinness of the frame of the Silver haired man. _Rhaenys , Aegon and Visenya, the dead have come to watch our ruin._

No one else had exhibited any shock, _except Robert, Ser Barristan and Ser Jaime. We are the only ones who can see them, for we are the ones awaiting total ruin._

‘Charge!, ’ yelled Visenya Targaryen and the four marched on to meet their foes. He and the shades watched her lay Meryn Trant wide open with single stroke of Blackfyre, _sorcery cutting through armor like butter._ The other four had not done well either, his son had taken two down without much apparent effort. _He has Arthur’s skill with the blade, which none of the new recruits can match._

‘Are these all your recruits, Usurper?’ taunted Visenya.

Ser Barristan and Ser Jaime stepped forward now. His son moved on to attack Ser Barristan, while the Viper took on Ser Jaime. Everyone else were content to stand back and watch these two duels, neither of which lasted very long. Age had made Barristan slower, and Oberyn was merely playing Jaime before going for the kill. The road to the Iron Throne was laid wide open.

He stepped forward, the last defender of Robert Baratheon, knowing full well that any of the four could finish him in moments. Visenya’s eyes narrowed in contempt as she barked her orders: ‘Daeron’

_I wonder, does she remember the story of Bael the Bard? Is this why my son must be my adversary?_

‘I warn you, Lord Stark, step aside now. Howland Reed is not here to save you this time,’ spoke his son.

 _I know that, I also know my end is nigh,_ he thought as he moved forwards face his enemy. Yet their blades had barely met thrice before an armored hand crashed into his helmless face, knocking him to the ground.

 _So it ends,_ he thought but the final blow never came. An armored foot held his body tightly in place, but he could still turn his neck and see the Throne, as the three heads of the dragon ascended.

Robert gripped the throne harder, and yelled ‘No Dragonspawn will take this from me!’

‘Or what?,’ spoke the only corporeal head ‘Even an eleven year old girl can cut you with ease and you expect me to take your threat seriously? In case you did not notice, Im not half as honorable as my father-Victory is Victory, however it comes.’

Realization finally dawned in Robert’s eyes, as he whispered ‘Lya?’

‘Visenya’ came the response as Blackfyre swung down and the Throne was dyed red with his friend’s blood.

Visenya Targaryen kicked the corpse down, as she sat on the throne, and leaned back, further than what he, Ned Stark had ever dared. And, unlike Robert, she rose uncut. The shades of Aegon and Rhaenys smiled, and bowed before her before holding hands and dissipating, as he watched in shock.

He remembered Arthur Dayne, on that day, bleeding out on the sand, whispering ‘She is the Queen,’ till he died. _She finally is but what for the rest of us?_

He heard Cersei yelling, but the sounds all mixed up together as it all went black.

* * *

 

Ashara’s visit had cleared things up a bit, but he still marveled at the depth and sophistication of the whole plan. _Visenya executed it all._

_Rhaegar’s intellect and Lyanna’s fire, a deadly combination if there was ever one. I wonder how did she find a way to control all three dragons alone. And she has learnt her politics well; it will be the Rains of Castamere with Lannisters, Baratheons and Tullys._

He understood Ashara’s rage, could feel it himself when she uttered ‘found her starving in the streets of Braavos. Daeron found her on the verge of selling herself to a sailor’. But it was in the end his fault, and he wondered what horrors truly awaited them. _The sentence to the Tully’s is to see Catelyn suffer, but what will my punishment be?_

 _‘Learn the difference between a real woman and the dolls of a Septa’,_ Ashara had spoken. He wondered if she was comparing Catelyn with herself, or the sweet simple girl who once used to live in Winterfell with Queen Visenya Targaryen, First of Her Name. _Either way we suffer._

 _Daeron had been the unkindest cut of all, and this was not my complete fault._ He could not truly blame Ashara for finding a new life across the Narrow Sea with Connington, united over grief over friends lost. But he still had not expected her to mention the children born out of rape in the Conquest of Dorne by the Young Dragon, and subsequently naming them after Daeron I himself. Their last conversation had not focused on affairs of the heart, merely of politics and Visenya’s future. _Decades of rage unleashed in one blow._

 _She thinks she has defeated me now, having seen Rhaegar’s daughter to the Throne._ Ashara had won, there was no doubt-she was not simply the wife of the new Lord Hand or mother to the heir of Storm’s End, she was one of the most powerful advisors to the Throne itself. But he wondered if he had truly lost, for he finally felt a measure of peace that had not been present over the last two decades, despite the grief of losing Robert. _I will accept my verdict, be it the wall or anything else, as long as my family is alive._

 _I wonder if the old Kings are smiling now, down at the store-room,_ he thought before turning to face Robb and explain the whole story to his children and also to Catelyn, who was sitting silently.

* * *

 

_305 AL, Winterfell._

It had taken them nearly a year to get back home, for they had been held prisoner in the Keep till the Great Council to formalize the New Queen’s reign. Ashara had brought information periodically, and he knew that the Vale and the Reach had bent the knee as soon as hearing about the fall of King’s Landing, Lysa had been sent to the Silent Sisters for murdering Jon Arryn, Tywin and Hoster had been killed by their own men after half their army burned in dragonfire and that Renly had tried to hole up in Storm’s End before it became a second Harrenhall. Over three thousand men got sent to the Watch by the end of it, including his goodbrother Edmure , the Blackfish and nearly all Lords of Westerlands and Stormlands. He had also heard how all of Robert’s bastards had been chopped down- _two here in Capital by Connington’s men, the girl in the Vale by Nestor Royce to secure the Queen’s favor._ The Darry’s had ended up with the Riverlands and the Castle Riverunn itself, a gift in return for the loyalty shown during Robert’s rebellion, which almost saw the House extinct.Velaryon had been sent West to directly tie the Westerlands under Crown control.

He remembered the first and last meeting he had with Visenya, the new Quee- _no its Imperator now._ She had simply told him that they were being spared only because she did not wish to destabilize the realm further, and the North needed a Stark. ‘But remember Lord Stark, I also have a Stark of my own, should it needs be’, was how she finished. _Of course, even if Daeron refuses, Benjen will be too glad to be of use to his niece._

He doubted that Visenya had completely forgotten the family connection though, for Arya had refused to come North with them. She was going to squire for Daeron Connington, and be a Knight, having taken a leaf out her cousin’s book. That, he suspected would not have been possible without the Queen pulling strings, nor the position Bran was offered from the Citadel. He had been sad to let both his children go, but he knew they would be happier. _The Queen will not let any harm come to them, she loved them once and that affection has not simply vanished._

It was the older people who had more reason to fear the Queen. She had annihilated House Tully, and Catelyn barely spoke to anyone after returning North. She spent nearly all her time in the Sept, trying to recover from her families fate, along with the triple blows of Ashara Dayne, Daeron Sand-Stark-Dayne-Connington and Visenya Targaryen. The Queen’s antipathy for Catelyn had been no secret (he suspected Ashara had played some part in publicizing it), and there had been no offers of marriage for Sansa from anyone. He knew a Southron match was unlikely after what happened, but even Northern Lords hesitated, not daring to provoke the ire of the Queen. She and Sansa did have a shouting match once, or rather Sansa had yelled at her for a long time, for sending Joffrey to the Watch and being a false Queen. He had been shocked to see the depth of Cersei’s influence, and had tried to stop her.Visenya had raised a hand to silence him, and coldly informed Sansa that she was free to join Cersei in the Silent Sisters should she so wish, or she might join Joffrey and be a second Danny Flint. Everyone in the room had taken notice, and within weeks the whole realm had Sansa’s name in the list of things the Queen despised. That automatically ensured that everyone would make up excuses when he tried to approach them for a betrothal. Even he knew better to try to make the Queen change her mind, she and Sansa had never been on the best of terms. Arya and Bran choosing to remain unwed almost a blessing as that left only Rickon, and he hoped the Queen would calm down by the time Rickon was old enough, or Arya prevail over her.

Robb had been married to Dacey Mormont within days of their return North, Maege Mormont wanted the betrothal kept before the Queen interfered. Visneya and Robb were not on particularly good terms, especially considering their earlier closeness. But it was more of awkward distance between two people who used to know each other than hatred, and that was why alone Maege had gone ahead with the wedding. They now had a son, Rickard.

 _And now my eldest is getting married, and I cannot go._ Visenya was marrying Daeron, a highly unconventional marriage where the husband will take the wife’s name. He understood Visenya’s reasons, Daeron had been fiercely loyal to her, and him being a bastard and not having dragonblood meant he could never be a threat to her authority. _But perhaps that had not been all of it, it was as if Rhaegar and Lyanna all over again, with their features mixed up._

 _Catelyn once said ‘your daughter will be Queen nonetheless!’ and now my child is becoming a consort to the Throne and yet I cannot go._ The invitation had only been tacit politeness, as he knew he could not go. _What is my role there? Lord Paramount of the North? Pardoned traitor? The Imperator’s Uncle or the Consort’s father?_

He had tried to speak to Daeron but had been coldly rebuffed, redirected to ‘my Father, Lord Hand Connington for official matters’. Robb had gotten the same reaction, and only Arya had been able to slip through, thanks to Visenya herself. _Their children will have my blood, more than Rickard or my other grandchildren, but we will not be related in any sense._

_I can only wish them the best._

* * *

 

325AL, Winterfell.

Prince Aemon Targaryen’s visit was the first time in centuries that royalty had visited Winterfell. The Prince was exploring the realm he would one day rule and wanted to go see the Wall, where his namesake had served for seventy years. Aemon was only seventeen, five years younger than Rickard but there was harshness in him that Ned had rarely seen in young people. He had been nothing but the most polite, thanking him and Dacey for the hospitality, enquiring after Catelyn and Sansa and playing cyvasse with Rickard. Yet Aemon was completely cut off from the North, in a fashion his parents could never be. Ned had to admit, he was afraid of Aemon’s indifference, and hoped that the North would be in good terms with the Iron Throne when Aemon’s turn came to rule. There was no shadow that hung over him, the way it had hung over Visenya and Daeron, that made them threaten and rage but withdraw before actually dealing a mortal blow.

Aemon was skilled no doubt, the realm spoke of his looks, intelligence and skill with the blade. _Perhaps the greatest of all my grandchildren,_ he thought _but he will never acknowledge that,_ as he watched the Prince fly off on Skrykos.

* * *

 

Six days later, Lord Eddard Stark was found dead in his bed, laid low by a sudden chill.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ned's reference frame: Keeps on doing the same thing even after knowing it is wrong , from some misguided sense of Honor.
> 
> The shades: I wanted an Elia, Rhaegar and Lyanna triad-that would also be Rhaenys, Aegon and Visenya.
> 
> The paintings: Nothing fishy about them, Ned is depressed and sees what he wants to see. Its his POV after all.


	3. Joanna I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Rise of Lord Voldemort of Westros. Edition-Tom Marvolo Riddle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have been absent from the site for quite some time, work tends to do that.  
> No matter how much I want to close this fic, I keep getting drawn back to it. The story is done, it is just the perturbations I need to play with. This time we get a POV of Lyanna’s daughter from the beginning to the end, a story that begins in Snow, but ends in Fire and Blood.  
> I will not use fixed years for this fic, merely use Joanna’s age to show the year. She was born in late 283 AL.  
> Liberal references to Byzantine history, especially Justinian and Theodora. In real history Theodora died first, here Justinian goes before her. Basil is Basil II, a rather infamous individual who evokes both respect and horror, depending on who you are.

_The King’s Visit_

Joanna’s earliest memories were not particularly sad ones, and she often wondered where it all went wrong. Looking back, the farthest she could go was the day Lady Catelyn had introduced them to the harp. Robb had been absolutely terrible at it, and she still remembered the servants laughing at their young lord’s flustered face. She had not been too bad then, but her fingers had just begun to tentatively pluck the strings when their father came in. She still remembered the shock on his face, and had noticed him gesturing at Lady Catelyn to come outside and talk. Robb had stopped coming from the next day, as Lady Catelyn said that he needed to learn how to be a lord. ‘But, a little bit of culture never hurts a man, while it is essential for a woman’, she had told her, ‘so don’t think you can run away as well.’

She had not minded, for she liked music and even Maester Luwin said she was good with the harp and had a good singing voice. Apparently her feminine qualities ran out there, as she proved to be absolutely terrible at needlework. She was good with arithmetic and languages, at least far better than Robb, but those were not essential skills for a wife to have. And going riding with her brother or practicing swordplay with him was sufficient to liquidate any benefits associated with her musical skills, Lady Catelyn had told her firmly. Yet their father had not asked them to stop, and in fact had permitted her to train with Ser Rodrik after catching Robb and her sneak out at night. Lady Catelyn had disapproved and tried to make her do more needlework with Septa Mordane, but even that venerable woman had given up. ‘My Lady,’ she had told Lady Catelyn, ‘this would be a complete waste of time for both of us. Perhaps she should further her musical skills and consider a life in service to the Seven.’ Her father had shot the suggestion down instantaneously, declaring that it was not a career for a woman of the North.

That got her thinking about the various religions of Westros, and she had spoken with Maester Luwin about it. It was perhaps a sheer stroke of luck that the Maester had mentioned the Valyrian Gods, about whom she had heard nothing about. ‘Well, Joanna; I can tell you that that there were fourteen of them, three of which were called Meraxes, Balerion and Vhagar. But I confess I know little more about that faith. Perhaps you should look at the older library books, for you know Valyrian well enough.’ _Another thing father disapproved of,_ she thought, _a southron custom that Lady Catelyn brought in, insisting that children needed to know two tongues._ She was far better at the language than her brother, who honestly saw no advantage in pursuing it. But she was a bastard and needed every little skill to survive on her own, and not leech off the generosity of the Starks. There may not have been a female maester, but her skills might lead to some employment elsewhere. _Or so I thought then,_ _not even in Dorne would they willingly hire an educated woman as anything save as a Septa._ The old books left by Jaehaerys I had changed her world, as she read about the Sunrise Kingdom in the East, with their Dragons and Sorcery. Her Valyrian improved exponentially over the last two years, as she spent more and more time in the library than the tower room, swallowing the old texts, dreaming about Justinian and Theodora, imagining herself a part of Basil’s army in his final conquest of the Rhoynar or sailing across the Narrow Sea with Queen Nymeria. _Maybe I will go east when I am older, there the women can fight with swords and no one will look twice if I try to become a healer._ That was but a vain hope, as she knew well enough. Her father intended her to marry some Northman and breed children for him. _Not the future I wanted, but such is the fate of all women, even ones as highborn as Lady Catelyn._ She at least would not run away, even though she was a bastard and worth far less than her aunt Lyanna, she would not let such a shame to fall across her family. But dreaming up in the tower did not hurt, until that one fateful day when she would have to leave them behind in Winterfell and move to her husband’s hearth. _Even an employment as a singer at a pleasure-house would perhaps be preferable, for then I can choose my own fate. Wasn’t Theodora one before she met Peter Sabbatius and became Imperator of Valyria?_ But this was not Essos, and she was not going to shame her Lord Father and Lady Catelyn by giving in to the suggestions of all those who had suggested she use her music to serve men instead of the Seven.

 _Lady Catelyn probably expects that of me in any case,_ she thought bitterly, _where did it all go wrong?_ It had never been bad between the two of them at first, Lady Catelyn had cared for her more than her distant father or the various disgruntled servants ever had. Sure, she had treated Robb better, but sons were always more privileged, while Sansa and Arya were only babies who had needed more attention. Lady Catelyn had seen to it that she got a good education, had looked after her while the servant girls whispered behind her back, and for the longest person she thought she could be something other than a bastard to this one person alone, more than her father who put much effort into avoiding her. She was wrong of course; an elegant Lady like Catelyn Tully kept all her feelings buried within her head, and not exposed them before the world. _I wonder if she even cared._

The lesson had been sudden, she had been practicing swordplay with Robb and Catelyn had brought Arya out to watch. To her mother’s obvious chagrin, Arya cheered for her sister over Robb, though Catelyn Stark hid it well. Joanna had just been about to disarm Robb, when she heard Catelyn’s voice ring in her ahead, _How dare you!._ It had been sudden and she dropped her sword to trun around and face her. Yet no one looked like they heard anything, and they were looking at her in surprise. She locked eyes with Catelyn and heard _know your place, girl_ ; even though her lips did not move. She had ran from the field and hid in the library for the rest of the day wondering if she had gone mad. But no, she could now hear thoughts whenever she wanted to, a fact that made her avoid Catelyn like a plague. _She didn’t mean it, maybe I should try to let her cool down._ Except her retreat to the library worsened the situation, the more distance Joanna tried to put between the two, the greater Catelyn’s contempt grew. _She could perhaps forgive a barbarian a besting her son, but not permit him to be bested in education by the same._ She gave up after a year, and simply resigned herself to avoiding Lady Catelyn and Sansa. _That was the unkindest cut of all, to be hated by my own kin for being able to sing better._

Her becoming a woman a few weeks ago, and the King’s upcoming visit had worsened their relations. She was genuinely glad Sansa was going to be Queen, she was a better fit for the South than elsewhere; but the chaos almost made her wish otherwise. _Both are worried that I will usurp Sansa’s place_ , _but have no fear-I would have remained unwed if I could, but if I must, I shall wed and die in the North._ She had suspected for long that it was her much commented similarity in looks with her late Aunt Lyanna that had prompted such fears, and her Uncle Benjen had confirmed as much. Her favorite person in the world was a rare visitor to Winterfell, but she eagerly awaited each his visits, to play _The Dance of the Dragons_ on the harp and show how much better she had gotten. She could almost bear it all if he was here but he wasn’t. This next month would perhaps be the greatest ordeal in her life, one that she would have to bear with Robb alone.

 _I am indeed fortunate that Lord Tywin’s grandson will not glance twice upon one like me_ , and for once she was glad to be a bastard.

* * *

 

She might have had figured out how to tackle the Prince, but certainly had not prepared for the King, whose mind was filthier than all other men in Winterfell put together. _I cannot believe Father is friends with him._ Her opinion about her father had decayed rather drastically over the last few days, although she had to admit that the situation was now beyond salvation.

 _I have stabbed him, and now I am a traitor to the realm._ She was free at last, a freedom that was both frightening and liberating. She briefly considered going to Uncle Benjen in the Wall, but the Watch did not accept women, and the Tale of Danny Flint was lesson enough. _The Free Cities it will be , but how to get to White Harbor._

 _Cross the ford,_ spoke a voice in her head, the same that had made her draw her blade and strike the King. _And then command the horse to cross again and run along the other bank of the White Knife._

That was the wisest solution, and she did as commanded, and saw Jaime Lannister ride past a few moments later, focused on the tracks and ignoring the small detour the horse had taken over water to relieve its passenger. She could now come out of her hiding spot and plan to walk South, _You are lucky it is Summer now, we need to kill whatever animals we can with that small sword of yours,_ spoke the voice _._

 _Who are you?_ , she asked, being familiar with the tales of skinchangers, even though her skill in managing her horse had proved beyond doubt that she was one too.

_Look into the river._

She did and nearly screamed, her reflection had silver hair and grey eyes, quite unlike how she looked.

 _I am you and you are me. A twofaced human._ She had read about them, including Imperator Anastasius himself. _Two eyes, two minds._

 _You have to be brave Joanna,_ spoke the voice. _King Daeron was brave enough to conquer Dorne at fourteen, At eleven, you must get to White Harbor alive, which the soft, castle raised Joanna Snow cannot do. Therefore, I need to take over._

_Do you have a name?_

_Visenya._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of crappy isnt it? Lesson learnt-cant do young girl POV.
> 
> Anastasius: Real Byzantine Emperor (492-518CE). Had irises of different colors-here metaphor for having two minds in one body.


	4. Author's Note

First of her Name is going to be totally revamped, and written about in great details. Some characters appear, some vanish and some come and go. 

The story can be found in http://archiveofourown.org/works/1502489/chapters/3173489

**Author's Note:**

> Culmination of all my fem! Jon feel, along with Dangerous Women.


End file.
